best two out of three

"In New York they say you're always looking for a job, a boyfriend or an apartment. So let's say you have two out of three and they're fabulous. Why do we let the one thing we don't have affect how we feel about all the things we do have?"

-Carrie Bradshaw, Sex & The City

My good friend Kilali reminded me of this episode as we caught up over pasta, steak and a bottle of wine last week. I've been reflecting on my almost three years(!!) in New York and based on my track record, found this quote to be true.

When I first moved to NYC I had all three: job, boyfriend and apartment. The job and the apartment were far from amazing, but they did the trick. Then the boyfriend and I broke up shortly thereafter. I still had 2/3: job and apartment.

By the time I gained a new boyfriend my lease was up and I had to find a new apartment. I was literally homeless and bummed around on friends' couches and airbeds for a month. But I had 2/3: job and boyfriend.

There was a short period of time when I had all three again, but the relationship faded away. I was left with 2/3: job and apartment.

Said boyfriend and I were on-again-off-again for awhile, and during an "on" time I had to find yet another apartment. I had a stable 2/3: job and boyfriend during this time.

The apartment was found, I still had the same job, but the boyfriend and I broke up immediately after I signed the lease (I was literally assembling my new dresser in my empty apartment when we broke up). But I still had 2/3: job and NEW apartment.

It was me, job and apartment for awhile until I gained a boyfriend. It was a brief encounter having all three again, but it was only a few weeks until I was laid off from my job. But to get me through it, I had 2/3: boyfriend and apartment.

My job search was on for a few months and I landed a fantastic job and essentially again had all three for a bit. Then boyfriend and I broke up which leaves me in my current 2/3 state: NEW job and apartment.

Making sense of my jumbled timeline is confusing and my summary is probably not even fully accurate. To break it down, I've had 4 jobs, 2 boyfriends and 4 apartments all in under 3 years. Its confusing and hard to remember which apartment went with which job, etc. Basically I have found that I am always missing or wanting a new one of the three things when I should be happy and proud of what I have.
As for my fraction balancing now, I am not letting my job go anywhere... so I guess that means by the time I need a new apartment I'll have a new boyfriend, right? I suppose it only makes sense.

my ABC's

A - Age: 25
B - Bed size: full
C - Chore you hate: cleaning the shower. Can I get away with only Swiffering my shower?
D - Dog's name: I wish I had a dog!
E - Essential start your day item: Coffee and a shower
F - Favorite color(s): PURPLE
G - Gold or Silver: gold
H - Height: 5'11"
I - Instruments you play: recorder :)
J - Job title: n/a
K - Kid(s): just some mice and roaches
L - Living arrangements: 6th floor 2 bedroom walk-up with Laina
M - Mom's name: Gail
N - Nicknames: Jamers, Mimi, Jamiekins
O - Overnight hospital stay other than birth: none
P - Pet Peeve: When people quote movies all the time
Q - Quote from a movie: please see above
R - Right or left handed: Right
S - Siblings: older sister Julie & younger brother Ryan
T - Time you wake up: Depends... for work was 6am, now 9ish
U - Underwear: Hanky Panky
V - Vegetable you dislike: rootabaga
W - Workout style: living in a 6th floor walk-up
X - X-rays you've had: teeth and neck
Y - Yesterday's best moment: Spending mother's day with my mom (and winning $17 in the casino)
Z - Zoo favorite: Otters

601,000 new friends

601,000 jobless claims for May week 2. I feel like I just somehow made 601,000 new friends. I wonder if they're out there doing the same things as me. I think unemployment brings out an entirely different side in myself--a side I'm pretty sure I don't like much. I've been doing weird things and acting out in tantrums and cry fests. I wonder if my 601,000 new friends are too. Here's a summary of what I've done with myself since Monday. If you're one of my new friends, let's compare.

Monday

• Walked out of ex-employer and into the rain.
• Cried a little bit on the phone with (my super awesome) boyfriend
• Ran an errand for him
• Went home and put on sweats and fixed up resume
• Met formerly unemployed friend Chris for pep-talk, tea and a sandwich
• Worked on resume some more
• Met boyfriend after he finished work. Broke down crying the second he hugged me
• Went to Whole Foods where I had a temper tantrum like a 3 year old ("Nothing looks good! Everything looks so gross. I don't want to eat anything!")
• Picked up Thai food and was "tricked" into sharing it with clever boyfriend
• Watched The Hills

Tuesday (my 25th birthday)

• Friend Kilali came over
• Ate chocolate macaroon, pear tart and strawberry cake with a bottle of champagne for breakfast
• Watched Who Wants to be a Millionaire and learned my future daytime television lineup
• Went out to eat 2nd breakfast of the world's best pancakes!!
• Saw Wolverine but slept the entire time. (expensive nap for someone who is jobless)
• Got a phone call for an interview. Scheduled interview for Wednesday
• Received FedEx box filled with the remnants of my cubicle (yay Marc Jacobs pen!)
• Went to dinner with boyfriend (who arrived with flowers)
• Began horribly crazy sobfest

Wednesday

• Interview at 10am. Not my best.
• Called mom and had break down... again.
• Played on the computer and cleaned apartment wearing only bra and tights
• Called unemployment office (was on hold for 15 minutes due to high volume of callers--my new friends)
• Called ex-employer HR
• Booked ticket to go to Seattle for the weekend
• Went to ex-employer to return company laptop
• Ate entire box of Kraft macaroni and cheese
• Watched Gossip Girl, America's Next Top Model and The Hills... again.

Thursday

• Made huge bowl of oatmeal
• Dropped off laundry
• Received NY Department of Labor unemployment information packet. I wonder how many of those my mail lady has delivered..
• Going to tackle messy room and gross bathroom

body language schmody language

The movie comes out in just a matter of days, the book has been something I've sworn by for years, but now that I really think about it, the entire concept of He's Just Not That Into You has been kind of a waste of my money! Silly self respecting girls like myself have made Greg Behrendt (the book's author) a very rich man for pointing out all the reasons boys don't treat girls right. I mean, haven't I repeatedly learned that for free in all my dating experiences? It doesn't seem right or fair that a MAN could make large amounts of money just by pointing out the things that boys do to make girls sad.

Maybe somehow it's women's faults. Women have become depicted as these horribly desperate people whose biological clocks are controlling their actions, making them creatures of desperation on a testosterone hunt (example: "I better snag a man before I get cellulite and crows feet.") It's a race against the clock that women are constantly fighting: freezing eggs, liposuction, Botox, etc. These things are used to preserve a woman's youth in the hopes that the men they worked so hard to get won't trade in for a newer model. It makes me sick!

Because of the evident desperation, men see women as a dime a dozen--easy to come by and easy to get. Chivalry is dead. We live in the era of one night stands and speed dating. Women's magazines are filled with articles titled "4 recipes that will seduce him," "What he really wants in bed," "Quiz: Are you in love or forcing it?" There are even full articles about decoding his body language! I am now supposed to read him through his body language to know if he's into me now? "uh oh! He's looking up and to the left! And now tapping his fingers! And now touching his ear and nose! It must be over." What happened to good old fashioned communication? Dating has become way too difficult for me.

In little ways I find myself buying into this though. More often than not, I find myself doing a quick left-hand-ring-finger-glance every time I see a cute looking boy. No ring? Great, I will try to get his attention. It's the maybe he's my future husband thought that creeps through my mind when a (cute and tall) boy gets on my train, opens a door for me (although this is extremely rare), or is standing in line in front of me at a coffee shop. I can't help it and I know I am not alone in this.

This has been a thought of mine for a while, and I have overheard a few conversations between women on the topic. Yesterday I heard two girls talking, "...And it was practically as if he was saying to me 'you're going to be single all your life and die alone. Bye.'" This has even happened to me. Feeling jaded, I am not the happiest and most fun flirter; I actually come off as a huge bitch sometimes. Flirting with a guy last weekend in a bar turned into me being actually kind of mean and him saying to me, "you know, you're never going to get a boyfriend if you act like that." Touché! hahaaha well what makes you think I want one, anyway?

So where does this leave me now, you may be wondering. Well, it leaves me wallowing in the fact that dating sucks. It leaves me still checking out the left hand ring fingers. It leaves me wondering if a cute and tall boy will open a door for me. I am a little more old fashioned than I ever thought I was. It leaves me having even more self respect in that I will never succumb to a one night stand out of desperation for male attention. I am weeding through the ones that are just not that into me and who I was never into in the first place. I will definitely NOT be memorizing the body language decoder! Most importantly, it leaves me deciding whether to see He's Just Not That Into You or My Bloody Valentine as I stuff my face with pistachio cupcakes on Valentine's Day this year.

Not that I encourage this, but... if you really want to know the body language bullshit, check it out: http://www.cosmopolitan.com/sex-love/body-language/

B.Y.O.B.

Being 24 in 2008 means you've had a driver's license for 8 years, 3 years of legal alcohol consumption, you've been able to vote in 2 presidential elections, and are probably one of the youngest people at the job you spend 40+ hours a week hating. The 20's are for "finding yourself," awful dates, maxing out the credit card and partying the weekends away curing hangovers with greasy hashbrowns at 2pm Sunday brunches. BYOB parties should still consist of fridges filled with an assortment of beers appealing to everyone's eclectic tastes. What's not to like about that?

However, it has come to my attention that a lot of my friends are now well past the B being for BEER. Two or three years ago the B made the switch from BEER to BOYFRIEND, then the engagements and weddings started. This was the period of time where the B stood for BLING; when I dealt with the year or two of oooh's and awww's and "wow! How many carats?" at my freshly diamoned ring-fingered friends.

Now the B is now marking the presence of BABIES!

Bring your own BABY?!?!?!! I have been invited to a holiday party with the last line on the Evite reading: "Bring babies, husbands or whomever you'd like" No joke. The RSVP list consists of my high school friends stating their +1's: husbands and babies.

Let me state this disclaimer before continuing: If you are my friend and you have a husband and/or a baby, this is not meant to be offensive. It is great that your life has become so adult-like and you've found "the one." I am happy for you. Mazal Tov!

And in most cases I have celebrated these rights of passage with you. I was your bridesmaid, your wedding singer, attended the wedding, the showers, the bachelorette parties and bought you gifts. I support you 100%.

On the other hand, I find myself in the slow lane watching these friends of mine whizz past me in the fast track of life one by one quickly gaining the titles of wife and mother. The two coasts I belong to have very different roles for me. While on the East Coast, my friends and I are all single and share our best dating horror stories. When on the West Coast, I am one of the last singles in a community of marrieds and repeatedly receive the "you will find someone" speech. Yeah, yeah... save the speech ladies; I'm holding out for eHarmony when I get desperate at 30.

However, I'm beginning to feel a little anxiety about this party, I'm not going to lie. I have no husband, I definitely have no baby, and in all honesty I barely remain interested in a guy long enough to label him as my boyfriend. How am I going to relate?

I decided on the following options for the party:

1. Make some excuse and don't go to the party
   
2. Go to the party solo and be reminded of how incredibly SINGLE I am
   
3. Go to the party, borrow my sister's stepdaughter, claim her as my own (she already agreed to this and said she'd start practicing with Kaylan to make sure she convincingly plays the role as my daughter)
   
4. Hire a male escort à la Debra Messing in The Wedding Date for the party
   
5. Go to the party, bring a baby doll and pretend she is my real live baby

Ok, #5 is a little out there but really makes me laugh. I put the babydoll on the floor with the live babies "oh, did I mention she is really behind in her motor skills? Crawling just hasn't happened yet." I say as the doll lies there facedown and motionless on the carpet. BAHAHAHHA

What will probably end up happening is I will go to the party solo and have a good time. I'll hold the babies, do lots of oohing and awwwing, make small talk with the husbands and other +1's. And as for my +1?? The B as I choose it to be--a BEER. And probably 1+.

NYC by the #'s

'Twas in late January, a wintry night that I packed myself up and took a 2,831 mile flight.

Leaving family and friends it was quite a pity, but there's nothing quite like living in New York City.

In New York I have placed many slumbers, so my life breaks down into these numbers:
23 months

3 apartments

2 jobs

3 mice

1 hospital visit

6 haircuts

5 sick days
4 karaoke performances